


it's you

by Minsu



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Idols, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Aobajousai, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:54:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29018541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minsu/pseuds/Minsu
Summary: iwaizumi is getting tired of watching you and oikawa avoid the s-word. a trip to the salon changes that. (idol!oikawa x manager!reader) (hair color soulmate au)
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 42





	it's you

**Author's Note:**

> soulmate au where if one soulmate dyes their hair, the other's hair changes color too.   
> a/n: another repost from my deviantart (my oikawa bias is showing) - there may be minor typos, i skimmed it - but i hope you enjoy!

The faint chorus of snores coming from the hallway of rooms echoes throughout the quiet dorm living room, where boxes of takeout and bottles of soda lay, littering the floor. The faint smell of orange chicken and chow mein lingers in the air, prompting Iwaizumi to scowl and roll his eyes.   
  
"I'll clean up here. Just get their asses up." He steps into a puddle of an identifiable substance, and shoots you a glare when you let out a giggle. "I'm going to kill them."   
  
"Maybe later," you muse, stepping over the substance now identified, due to the brown stain on Iwaizumi's sock, as spilled soy sauce. "You know, when we have a few more paychecks?" You joke, reaching for the first door on the left.   
  
"Oh. You're up?"   
  
Matsukawa's laying flat on his stomach, his phone in his hand and earphones in. He nods in response and sits up, yawning. "Did you bring breakfast?"   
  
"Bagels are on the table."   
  
"Great." He stands from his bed and stretches, patting your head before exiting, a hand over his stomach.   
  
Turning towards the door opposite, you reach for the knob, only for it to be tugged open. You stumble forward and arms steady you, the male smiling softly down at you. "You okay?"   
  
"Yeah. Go eat." Hanamaki nods and shuts his door behind him, joining Matsukawa at the table, already devouring his bagel. The two begin a light conversation about their new album, and how sore they are from dance practice the previous day. Iwaizumi begins to chew them out for the mess they made, but as professional Iwaizumi-blockers, they drown him out.   
  
You turn to the last bedroom door and let out a dreaded sigh before knocking and entering. You're greeted by darkness.The blinds are closed shut, no sunlight peeking through the tightly shut curtains, and there's no sign of life until you hear a groan, coming from a bundle of blankets resembling a burrito.   
  
"Oikawa-kun, you have to come eat now. Your appointment at the salon is in an hour, and we haven't accounted for traffic."   
  
"Nooooooo," he whines, burrowing further into his comforter, only his hair peeking out. "I don't want to go. I want to keep my hair this color."   
  
"I know, but you know I have no control over that." You enter the room and open the curtains, allowing a few streams of sunlight to shine through. Sitting on the edge of his bed, you reach over and pull the covers back. "After the performances, I promise to take you to get the color removed."  
  
"Promise?" He mutters, sitting up, pouting.   
  
"Promise."   
  
He embraces you, an intimate gesture. His face finds the perfect position in the crook for your neck, and you feel him smile. A warmth spreads through you, beginning in your stomach and ending in your ears. You let out a sigh and breathe in a mixture of cologne and shampoo; a pleasant scent.   
  
"You're the best." He pulls away, a small smile on his face, looking more energized by the second.  
  
"And _dead_ , if you don't get him dressed and out the door in five minutes," a voice cuts in. Iwaizumi's leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and keys in hand. You don't know how much he saw, or what he knows, but you move away from the brunette and towards Iwaizumi.   
  
"He's a big boy," you joke, turning to the flushing male, "He can dress himself. You have three minutes, Oikawa-kun."   
  
"Yeah. I'll be there."   
  
You and Iwaizumi shuffle out of the room, shutting the door. You know what he's going to say, however many times you've heard it and rejected it. You know it isn't that simple. High school crushes aren't supposed to last this long. Childhood friends don't coincidentally cross paths as much as you two do.  
  
"The company can't protest your relationship if you're soulmates." Iwaizumi says, leaning against the front door, watching you slip your shoes on.   
  
"What relationship?" You pick up the last remaining bagel in the box and place it into a napkin, shoving a few packets of cream cheese into your pocket.   
  
"You're ridiculous, you know?" He sighs, holding the door open for you.   
  
"Just shut up," you groan, stepping through the doorway, where the other two males stood, patiently waiting. "We can't make assumptions."  
  
"Assumptions about..." Hanamaki inquires, his hands stuffed into the pocket of his oversized hoodie. Matsukawa shrugs.   
  
"Don't be surprised when your hair turns bright purple or some other ridiculous color," Iwaizumi shrugs, dodging your lame-excuse for a punch. "Don't worry though," he grins, "I brought a hat for you, just in case."   
  
"Asshole." You lead them towards the elevator, and hearing a frantic scream followed by the sound of frantic footsteps, you hold the door open with your foot, sighing. Oikawa comes into view, barreling into the elevator. Panting, he groans and mumbles something about being sweaty.   
  
You hand him the bagel and the packets of cream cheese and step back, letting the elevator doors shut close and descend into the parking garage.   
  
"Thanks," he murmurs from behind you, placing his chin atop your head. "For everything, really."   
  
"It's no problem," you quietly answer, ignoring the burning stares of the other boys, and the smug grin on Iwaizumi's face.   
  
-  
  
"You're late," Akaashi informs you by tapping his watch. You look at him pleadingly, and he crosses his arms. "You're lucky I like you, (F/N)-chan. Bring them in."   
  
The boys, with much struggle, are dragged into the shop and seated. They're all half-asleep, nodding off as the makeup artists work on them.  
  
Akaashi pulls you aside to discuss the styles for each boy, and you're zoned out for the most part, watching Oikawa pester Kageyama as he powders his face. "As for Oikawa..."   
  
"Huh?"   
  
"Oikawa's hair? You're not listening, are you?"   
  
"No. I mean, _yes_ , I am - I just - tell me." He looks at you strangely, before clearing his throat to continue.   
  
"The company wants to keep his tousled look, but a lot more natural, so less volume. And since Hanamaki's hair will be dark, they want something light for Oikawa, so I was thinking - pastel pink? It's a few shades lighter than his brown."   
  
"Did they say he could disapprove?"   
  
"Not this time," Akaashi smiles, catching on. "You have a thing for brunettes?"   
  
"Oh shut it," you grumble, turning away. "I'm borrowing your couch."  
  
"I'm borrowing your boyfriend," he replies, waving you off. "He's in good hands!"   
  
You groan loudly and throw yourself onto the break room couch, wondering why you chose Akaashi's shop out of all the others.   
  
-  
  
Oikawa stares back at his reflection in the mirror, his previously brown locks that he cherished, now a pale pink. He didn't hate it, he _couldn't_ because it came with his job, and you promised him to get it removed as soon as they were done promoting their new album. He swivels around, eyes searching the room, disappointment flooding over his features when you aren't anywhere in sight.   
  
"She's napping in the back," Iwaizumi calls, and he's up and out of his chair, dashing down the hall and into the break room.   
  
"(F/N)-chan, it's time to head to the..." He stops in the doorway, heart pumping loudly and eyes wide. Whether it was your calm figure peacefully sleeping, or the fact that your hair color was _identical_ to his, he lets out a small squeak and panics.   
  
"What are you just standing there for? Wake up her up or we'll be late for the recording," Iwaizumi nudges the male out of the way, rubbing his face in annoyance. "(F/N), get up. Sleep more in the car - holy shit." He focuses in on your figure, eyes going from your hair to Oikawa's. He begins to laugh hysterically, dropping to the ground, clutching his stomach.  
  
"What? Did she drool on my couch or something?" Akaashi follows the laughter and enters the break room, arms crossed. A sly grin crosses his face upon seeing your hair. "Oh."  
  
"Nn, I'm going." You pull a pillow up towards your face and nuzzle into it, groaning.   
  
"Not until you look at yourself," Iwaizumi chortles, walking over with a handheld mirror in hand. "Just look."   
  
"Huh?" You catch a glimpse of pink in your reflection, and toss the pillow over your face away, eyes wide. "What the actual hell." You hold the mirror away from your face and study your hair, a pale pink replacing your (H/C). You glance at the red-faced Oikawa in the doorway, and an identical blush crosses your features.   
  
"Lets give them some privacy," Akaashi muses, taking hold of the situation. He aggressively pushes a teary-eyed, laughing Iwaizumi out the door and into the main room.   
  
Oikawa lets out a shaky breath and strides over, sitting beside you, fidgeting.   
  
"I kind of... Had a _feeling_ ," he starts, running a hand through his freshly washed hair. "Is it _bad_ to say I'm glad to see your hair as ridiculous looking as mine?" You turn to glare at him, but there's a joyous look on his face, tinted with a familiar red.   
  
"All the more reason to get rid of the color as soon as possible," you mumble, combing through your hair with a hand. "I had a thing for brunettes."   
  
He shoots you a dejected pout, but you roll your eyes. " _Had_. Turns out, I had a thing for you, Oikawa, instead."   
  
A few beats of silence pass, and when you turn your head back towards him, he meets you halfway. Soft lips press against yours, lips that tasted of strawberry and _cream cheese_ \- lips that left a faint stain of pink around yours. Once he pulled away, you wanted to laugh, because his lips were smudged, but the inner-manager within you began to panic.   
  
"We have a recording in literally ten minutes, and your lips are swollen and ruined -" He kisses you again, a smirk on his face. "What's the point? You don't even care. I'm going to lose my job."   
  
"Oh well," he shrugs, interlocking your fingers. He pulls you up from your seat and follows your pace towards the back entrance, where the van sat. "The lip color looks better on you, anyway."   
  
"Have fun?" Iwaizumi hollers, grinning from the driver's seat. "Nice look. You both are rocking the smudged lipstick _and_ pink hair."   
  
"Kageyama-kun, help me out here. Fix him." You push Oikawa in front of you, who grins cheekily at the scowling makeup artist. It was already an uphill battle doing Oikawa's foundation, let alone his lip color.   
  
The makeup artist, hesitant, removes the corresponding tube of lipstick from his belt and lightly applies it to Oikawa's lips, cringing each time the idol stuck his tongue out to annoy him. He wipes away the smudges to the best of his ability, and looking exhausted, steps away.   
  
"You know, I'm just going to end up messing it up again." You grab his sides and push him towards the open van door, groaning and mumbling in annoyance.   
  
"Mess it up, and you'll never get kissed again." You shut the van door behind him and enter the passenger seat, Iwaizumi immediately speeding off once your seatbelt was secured.   
  
You feel something land in your lap, followed by a chorus of giggles and teasing words. Hanamaki and Matsukawa grin at you through the rearview mirror. "Better cover up, buttercup. The company has to release an official statement first."   
  
You scowl and tie your hair into a bun, pulling the cap onto your head, concealing, for the most part, your new hair. You lean back against your seat, closing your eyes for another nap, when you feel another object be placed onto your lap. "What?"   
  
"Lipstick is smeared all over your lips, and they're swollen pink," Oikawa snickers, smiling at you lovingly. "I don't want the cameras to see." You feel a wave of warmth wash over your face, and cover it with your hands. Glancing into the side mirror, you confirm his description - and use the mask in your lap, to cover your scandalous features.   
  
"Especially when you and Iwaizumi-kun are dubbed the prince-princess managers. You have a fanbase of your own at this point," Hanamaki sneers.   
  
"Oikawa's dead then. There'll be a manhunt for him once the company announces their precious princess manager has a prince who's _not_ Iwaizumi," Matsukawa adds, grinning.   
  
A pout forms on Oikawa's slightly swollen lips, turning away from the two teasing members. The van slowly approaches the broadcast station, where fans are lined against the street, cameras pointed.   
  
Once out of the van, the cameras begin to flash, the silent street filled with the sound of camera snaps and the occasional squeal. As per usual, Iwaizumi hangs back and urges the idols to walk faster, and you lead, keeping your head low.   
  
Once at the entrance, a hand slips into yours and the crowd outside erupts into squeals and shouts. A cheeky Oikawa grins, dodging the punch Iwaizumi throws, cursing.   
  
"I'm calling the company," Iwaizumi sighs, leading the way to the dressing room with his phone in one hand.   
  
You feel a light kiss to your cheek and scowl at Oikawa, who winks. "I couldn't help myself." He removes your hat and beams at you, playing with a few locks of your hair between his fingers. "I'm glad its you."   
  
"Me too," you softly smile, reaching up to pinch his cheek. "We need to stop flirting now, we're at work."   
  
"Fine," he grumbles, glancing around at the next group of idols entering. "When we get home, you'll get it. Full force flirting. FFF. Triple F."   
  
"I'm looking forward to it," you tease, ushering him into the dressing room.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading! kudos & comments are appreciated!


End file.
